


Birthday Cakes

by vi_violetrose



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, they are just making cake That Is It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vi_violetrose/pseuds/vi_violetrose
Summary: Sometimes you have to make a cake for your husband. And sometimes it doesn't taste very good.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Birthday Cakes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 5 A.M., but I hope you like it! :-)

Baking was never his strong suit. The man couldn’t taste, for one. Second, creating delicate details was always a horrendous endeavor with the strength of the royal family. 

This was essentially the Tragedy of Duscur in cake form. Dimitri could feel the guilt of watching everything, everyone, go up in flames, except that the fire was frosting. He’d always been quick to tears, so shedding them now wasn’t a surprising outcome. He just wanted to make a nice cake for his husband’s birthday.

And said husband enters the room with a cheerful “Hey!” as Dimitri nearly shrieks in reply. He quickly moves to block the cake from view, but the frosting he’d mistakenly gotten on himself is very much in view. A sheepish smile doesn’t help, either.

“Hello, my love...” If anyone was horrible at lying, it was Dimitri, so he wasn’t sure this secret was going to last.

Claude had already figured out what he was doing, and tilts his head with a grin. “Making a cake there, Your Majesty?”

... “Yes.” He has been defeated.

Rather ashamed of his... creation, Dimitri steps aside with head bowed and gestures to the _thing._ Goddess, he couldn’t call that a cake.

“I was going to say I’ve never see you bake anything before,” Claude remarks, “but I think the results speak for themselves. Do you, uh. Need help?” 

Yes. He did. “N-No, of course not!” But this cake was for Claude. He couldn’t help make his own cake.

“Are you suuuure? It’s starting to look like the battle at Gronder...”

“Claude!” Completely uncalled for! “Please, I’ve never made a cake before! I apologize that it does not suit your tastes.” Oh. Wait! Taste! “Ah, would you like to taste it? I can cut a piece for you.”

That mound of frosting was far from appetizing, but Claude answers “Sure,” with a smile. He wasn’t the type to give up before trying something— Though hopefully eating a slice of cake wouldn’t be a “Don’t give up!” type of endeavor anyway.

He accepts a small, horribly cut slice of cake. And he takes a bite, and he wants to cry, he wants to tell Dimitri it’s the worst thing he’s ever tasted in his life, he wants to ask him how the hell is this even a cake, why are there vegetables, why has he betrayed him like this, did he even love him; why would you give your beloved, wonderful husband a cake that has vegetables in it for his _birthday?_

“It’s...” It was very difficult to hide his reaction. Dimitri probably saw his horrified look after the initial tasting. “... Can I be honest?”

Dimitri nods and enthusiastically clenches his fist. He needed criticism to improve.

And Claude sighs. “I’m sorry, Your Kingliness, but this is hardly a cake. Cakes are supposed to be... sweet.”

“That’s why I put frosting and candies on top.”

“But why did you put vegetables in it? The cake itself isn’t sweet at all!”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of making it too unhealthy. Being in good health is a wonderful gift, isn’t it? I see no reason to sabotage that.”

This man is such a himbo. Claude puts a hand to his head; he was going to get a headache at this rate. “Dimitri... I love you. I do. But please don’t put vegetables in a cake. It doesn’t taste good at all. If you wanted something healthy, why didn’t you just use fruits? Those are sweet.”

At that, Dimitri stares at him as though he’d just regained vision in his right eye. He was such a fool... he’d barely thought about taste. And so he frowns, and tears begin to well up in his eyes again. 

“Wait, don’t— don’t cry.” Claude reaches to take his hand, but it’s covered in frosting, so he... uh... there’s frosting on Dimitri’s face, too... Claude places his hand on. His arm. Dimitri’s arm. Slow nod.

“Thank you for the cake. Really. It was sweet of you to think of me like that, and take the effort to make it yourself.” Smile. A real smile, of course; only the kindest smiles for his big lug of a husband.

Dimitri’s quick to pull him into a hu— and now there’s frosting on him, and he lets him go and apologizes profusely.

Honestly... Dimitri’s gift was his sincerity. No one could possibly fake his way of showing love.

Despite the frosting and stream of apologies, Claude cups Dimitri’s face in his hands and reaches up for a quick kiss on the lips. Sweet...

“Oh, My Husbandness... what would I do without you?”

“Stay in Almyra more often...?”

... Of course he answered it seriously.

“No, that’s not what I— Okay, look. You’re adorable, so I can forgive you for putting vegetables in my cake. If you do it again, though, I‘ll cry.”

Ah... A threat... Dimitri nods, carefully. Sniffle.

“You can eat this cake since you can’t taste anyway”— he continues despite the hushes from Dimitri, who didn’t want anyone else to hear that little secret of his—“and we’ll make a new one for me! How’s that sound?”

“Um... I don’t really want to eat your birthday cake.” Frown.

“I’m sorry, but that’s... that’s not my birthday cake. It has vegetables in it and it’s crunchy and I don’t like that.”

“Ah... alright.” Dimitri looked a bit hurt, but he couldn’t blame Claude for thinking the cake was awful. “It feels wrong for you to help with your own cake, though.”

“Oh, come on. The real cake is getting to spend time with you!” Wink. Goddess, that was a horrible line.

But Dimitri seemed to like it, and he giggles in reply with a light blush upon his cheeks. “If you insist, my love.”

And the second cake didn’t end up tasting much better, but Claude wouldn’t trade his time with Dimitri for any cake in the world.


End file.
